Memories

Blood flowed from my split lip and dripped onto my favorite shirt. I stared out the window, watching my last salvation walk away in complete disregard for what he was witnessing.
Tears forced themselves to my eyes, and sheer willpower kept them from overflowing.
Do not show emotion.
Strength I had not envisioned yanked my hair, forcing me to look into cold brown eyes.
"I hate you," I whisper.
She sighed and replied, "I know."

Her hands are like crinkled brown paper bags. Veiny, with long manicured fingernails protruding like claws. My eye caught the engagement ring my dad had given her many years before. It is stained with my blood.

My eyes remained shut tightly in prayer as she made the drive home. Wishing I was not stuck with her. Praying I would wake up and she was just a horrible nightmare. Hoping my dad would come home early and save me.

The engine shut off, and I looked up at the place I was supposed to call home. The one place I should be safe. I don't want to go in. I watch her enter the house and I follow slowly. Dread gripped my heart as I reached for the knob.
Locked.
I go to the front door, and just as I reach for the handle, I hear the key turn. Locked.
I go to the backyard, and I see her throw the dogs outside and slam the door shut. I hear the snick of the bolt sliding into place. Locked.  I wonder how long it will be this time.

I roamed the neighborhood for the night, cursing my bad luck as I realized both my friends were out of town.

The moon rose and the house remained locked up tight.
Tears streamed down my face as I gave in to self pity. Why me?




I can't believe I am about to publish this. Fuck it. 

Good fences make good neighbors

Our upstairs neighbor, who Kristen and I affectionately refer to as the 'Whore of Babylon', is the bane of our existence. You might be wondering why. If not, tough shit. I am going to tell you anyways.

1. She has a squeaky bed. Now, this might not be a big deal under normal circumstances, but when you live underneath someone with a multitude of male suitors (they aren't really suitors, if you know what I'm saying) this can become quiet irritating.

 

2. She has the gracefulness of an elephant. I should not know her exact location within her condo at 2 a.m., and yet I do because of her stomping.

3. She has an affinity for high heels. I like heels just as much as the next girl, but when she has them glued to her feet at all hours, and seems to pass time by walking laps around her condo, the clunking noise makes me want to stab her in the throat with a meat cleaver.  

4. She has taken it upon herself to contact the condo association detailing our numerous 'neighborly transgressions'. One of our supposed transgressions occured during an innocent outdoor game of toss-the-teddy bear with Maura, my dog. The cottony, soft, stuffing-filled, eye-less toy may have hit the side of the building once or twice. The Whore of Babylon was supposedly unable to sleep due to the loud banging noises the stuffed animal created, and she felt it necessary to rally for our eviction.

5. She thinks "Maura" is a boy's name. And yet, she teaches. Poor children. 

6. She has a horse-face. Kristen and I agreed already that our neighborhood should only allow attractive people, so we feel she should be evicted for this reason alone.

7. At least she's really friendly! Oh, wait. No she's not. She seems to be as kind hearted as Hitler and Satan's love child. 

If any of you, my dear readers, have any tips on how to deal with an unruly neighbor, please leave a comment below. Be quick about it though, or I'll be back here shortly begging for suggestions on how to dispose of a body instead.

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If you like to laugh, click this link: ludakristen.com (You're welcome)

I am not a lazy person

I don't understand why people call me lazy. I get up and do things regularly. I take my dog to the dog park, I go to school and work, I run 26 mile marathons and practice my roundhouse kick with Chuck Norris every other day. These are not signs of laziness!
I mean, sure, most of the time you will find me on the couch playing Backyard Monsters or watching Supernatural reruns, or pretending to be asleep on my bed while my dog diligently watches for any movement that will alert her I am awake so she can whine and bark and scratch at the door to go potty. And true, I may prefer to use Twitter and sit outside for three hours chain smoking instead of reading the Narrative of Fredrick Douglass for my history class. But I swear- I am NOT lazy.

 Just pretend you don't notice the blaring television because the TV is to far away from the couch and the remote ran away. And I might hit snooze three... or twenty times before climbing out of bed, and I have to be honest, I sometimes skip showers because I just don't want to bathe- but I don't see how that is construed as me being lazy. I heard it was unhealthy to wash your hair every day anyways.

I may worship the person who designed the Circle K drive thru so I can buy my necessary items like chips and Full Throttle without even having to get out of my car, and I sometimes pretend I don't hear people when they are calling or talking to me because I feel like it would take to much effort to think of a response. But that does not make me lazy.

Swearsies.